Twisted History
by parttimeficwriter
Summary: It's their history but with a twist. H/R


**Not sure what I've done here to be honest! Just a silly idea that wouldn't leave me alone. Sort of fluffy angst or possibly angsty fluff, who knows? I heartily apologise for any mistakes but I'm writing this whilst at a soft play place and the noise levels are not great for concentration! **

**You might recognise bits and pieces from a couple of Spooks eps – Kudos own all that stuff, I'm just borrowing it.

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The evening itself is unremarkable. A cold and rainy Wednesday like so many others before it and as she settles herself on the top deck of the bus, and tries to put her hair back in to some semblance of order, she rues the moment that she ever believed the weather forecast and left her brolly at home. She sighs heartily and allows the warmth of the bus to seep in to her cold fingertips before groping in her handbag for the book that awaits her. It isn't long before she is engrossed in the century old drama that spills across the page in front of her eyes and for the first time today she feels herself unwind slightly. Such is Ruth's concentration that she doesn't notice the bus lurch to a stop, nor it splutter to life again some moments later, nor the passenger that makes their way to the seat behind her.

"Nice night out," a soft, warm, unforgettable voice calls out to her.

She's instantly alert and inhales sharply against her surprise as her fingers tighten against the well-thumbed pages of her book. "Jesus, Harry," she whispers, still stunned by his sudden appearance.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he says softly, "or make you think I'm a weirdo."

She can hear the smile in his voice and soon her lips or curving up in to a soft grin too. Her hears the small breathy laugh that escapes her lips and glories in the knowledge that he is not unwelcome.

"You do know that this could be classed as stalking, don't you?" she asks, feeling momentarily playful. It's been a long time since they've had this kind of conversation.

He scoffs and shakes his head at her even though she can't see him. "I hardly think twice in five years qualifies as stalking, Ruth."

"Five years," she says, softly and they lapse in to silence. Both thinking of how much has changed in those 5 years.

"I have something for you." Harry murmurs, eventually and she swallows hard against the butterflies that erupt in her stomach. She thinks about how, all those years ago, their hands met in a familiar exchange and how her skin tingled from his touch long after he had left the bus. "You do remember how to do this don't you, Ruth?" he prompts and is rewarded when her hand inches along the back of her seat. His fingers are warm as they tangle all too briefly with hers and she has to fight the urge to clasp her fingers around his and not let go. His touch is exactly as she remembers it and she wonders how she could have thought that time and distance and_ life_ would have changed the way she feels as his fingers tickle the palm of her hand. The moment is over far too soon for either of their liking and Ruth hides her disappointment by concentrating on the item now enclosed in her hand.

"It's a micro-dot." Surprise colours her voice and he can picture in his mind the exact way her brow will be furrowing. It is an endearing image.

"Yes."

"I might not have had a reader."

He smiles at that. "Funny thing. One went missing not so long after you returned to the grid..."

"And you presumed it to be me," she says, indignantly.

"Ruth," he says and now she can picture the exact look on _his_ face, "I may not be your boss anymore but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I watched you steal it!"

"Borrow," she corrects him, instantly.

"I saw you borrow it then," he retorts.

"And we're back to the stalking," she says, deadpan, shutting him up but making him smile at the same time. "What is it?"

"A list," he tells her, voice suddenly serious and more business-like, "every contact, safe house and secret I've ever known is on there."

"I don't understand," she whispers, confusion and a distinctly sick-like feeling washing over her.

"I want to know you'll be safe, Ruth. If," he pauses and takes a breath to collect himself, "if you're ever in trouble, I want you to use this. Any way you have to."

"Harry-"

"Please, Ruth," he implores her.

"Is this," she falters as a horrible thought enters her consciousness, "are you saying goodbye?"

"Yes," he pauses a moment to gather his suddenly scattered thoughts. "I realise now how my feelings, my _expectations_, have been a burden on you and that I have been terribly unfair to you," he clears his throat in an attempt to mask the emotion that he can hear seeping into his voice, "a long time ago you asked me to let you go, I've never really honoured that. I never stopped hoping, you see, that one day, somehow, we'd be together and because of that I have been so unfair to you. I wanted so much for you to want me that I was blind to what you needed and I am so sorry for that, Ruth."

His gaze lingers over the back of her once more and then, before he can talk himself out of it, he presses the button for the next stop. He leans forward and inhales her scent for one last time and eyes closed, whispers, "If you love something, set it free…"

His eyes and throat sting with unshed tears as he swings himself up out of the seat. Determined not to look at her, in case he loses what little strength he has left, he takes a step forward but is stopped in his tracks as her hand reaches out and grasps his forearm.

"And if I don't want to be set free?" she asks, fiercely, desperation and something else swimming in her eyes. "What if I want you to sit here, next to me, holding my hand? What then, hmm?" Ruth's eyes continue to hold his as her grips tightens and she holds on to his arm as if her life depends on it. "What if I never want you to let go, Harry?" she says, trying not to cry as she looks up at him from where she sits, "What if all I've thought about for the last seven weeks is you, me and a small house in Sussex?"

"Sussex?" he parrots, at a loss for anything else to say. She smiles softly at him, recognising his confusion and loving him so much in that moment that she feels like shouting it out. Instead she settles for shuffling further along the seat and tugging on his arm until he takes the hint and takes a seat at her side.

"Anywhere, Harry, so long as we're together," she tells him, earnestly and she takes great pleasure in watching a smile blossom on his face. His eyes are shining and she instantly decides that happiness is a look that suits him.

"And the neighbours, what shall we tell them?" he asks with a lopsided grin as his fingers reach out and entwine with hers.

"Bugger the neighbours," she murmurs, seconds before her mouth meets his in a tender kiss.

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**Thanks for reading. Please leave a review. **


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